


Those Who Care

by sodapeach



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous Relationships, Caretaking, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, you can decide if it’s platonic or not that’s up to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodapeach/pseuds/sodapeach
Summary: Seungsik finds Seungwoo in a mental health spiral and does what he can to try to help him feel a little better.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo & Kang Seungsik, Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik
Comments: 27
Kudos: 130





	Those Who Care

**Author's Note:**

> If this could be triggering for you, please don’t read it. Your mental health comes first!!!
> 
> I always think of Seungwoo as the protector and the caregiver, so I wanted to see what it would be like to have someone take care of him for once, and I thought Seungsik was the perfect person.
> 
> This was supposed to be a 1k character study....

_ Has anyone seen Seungwoo? _

That was the only thought that could pass through Seungsik’s head for days as he tried to ignore the void in his mentions. He told himself a dozen times that it was normal for people to go offline for a few days. For all he knew, Seungwoo was with his parents, ignoring the outside world like the filial son he was or out of the country on a trip without a way to check his phone. Or something had happened to him, and no one knew.

_ No, nothing’s wrong. Seungwoo is fine. Seungwoo is locked in his apartment playing Overwatch with a mountain of delivery food boxes piling up next to the door because he can’t be bothered to take them out. He’s fine. He’s just taking a little Snoo Time. He deserves it. He- _

_ Needs to fucking text me back before I lose my mind and report him missing _ .

Seungsik didn’t want to bother him. He didn’t want to look clingy or annoying or dependent, but he was  _ worried,  _ and unless Seungwoo personally told him that he was fine, he was never going to get that sinking feeling out of his stomach that a person only felt in situations where in the back of their mind they knew that the person they cared about the most was never coming home.

What if Seungwoo never came home?

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Seungwoo wasn’t floating down the river or at the bottom of a volcano. He was safe and happy and healthy, but he was just probably busy. But he still needed to calm his nerves before he shit himself in the middle of a metro station. 

He pulled out his phone and had to scroll down a few names before he found him. That in itself was unusual because Seungwoo was always and had always been the name at the top. Seungwoo was the most important person in his life, and that made him being unavailable that much more unsettling. 

**_Hey are you ok?_ **

He waited patiently for an answer that never came, and it made him feel a thousand times worse. 

_ He’s sleeping. He’s showering. He’s taking the recycling out. He’s gone. _

He swallowed. No more of those thoughts.

**_I don’t wanna be annoying, but I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I just wanted to check in._ **

Nothing.

He scrolled down a bit to find someone who definitely would have heard from him. Seungwoo was a doting and loving older brother type of friend, so if he was just busy, Seungsik knew one person who would know.

**_Subinie have you talked to Seungwoo?_ **

**_No, sorry what’s up?_ **

**_I haven’t heard from him and I was just curious_ **

**_Huh._ **

**_Thanks anyway_ **

**_Do you want me to drop by his place and check on him?_ **

**_You know what I think I’m going to I’m not far right now thanks for the idea_ **

**_No problem text me if you need anything_ **

Seungsik shoved his phone back in his pocket and headed across the station to another train going in the opposite direction. Was he at all close to Seungwoo’s place? No. Was he going to let that stop him from going? Absolutely not.

There was the chance that Seungwoo wasn’t home, and it was going to be a completely wasted trip, but there was no convincing himself of that. He had to go, he just knew it in his gut that him going to his apartment was necessary to make things feel a little more normal again.

If it was a wasted trip, he would just have dinner in Seungwoo’s neighborhood and drop off something for Subin too. There was also the option of having Subin meet him somewhere too for a meal, but he wasn’t sure he could keep his face steady if he had to worry any harder than he already was. It was probably best that he didn’t see him for more than a couple of minutes just in case.

Everything was going to be fine. He was going to get to Seungwoo’s apartment and find him ignoring him, and then deal with whatever kind of emotions he had to address upon discovering that he was being ignored on purpose and deal with that then.

Everything was going to be fine.

Seungwoo was fine.

He was sure of it.

  
  
  


Seungwoo hadn’t moved in days. 

Was it days? Was it hours? Or was it weeks? Had it been a month yet? He couldn’t be sure. His lights were still on, he thought. At least the light in his bathroom still turned on, and no one had sent any goons (or just regular angry elderly landlords) after him to collect unpaid rent. Maybe it hadn’t been that long, but even if it had, his ability to comprehend units of time had faded with his ability to stand up on his own and continue on with whatever it was that required him to know what day it was. But that was over, wasn’t it? There wasn’t a reason or a need to know anymore. That was for a different time, and time was just something he didn’t understand anymore. 

Without a plan, he needed a new plan. A better plan. And he was pretty sure he found one. He planned to rot away alone tucked safely in his blankets where no one would look for him, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not even himself.

But no one was looking. He wasn’t the kind of person that people needed to look for. He could manage on his own, he always had, but this time… this time, if he had ever truly been himself, he wasn’t sure he ever would be again.

And then he thought, in the words of some ancient famous philosopher,  _ this fucking blows. _

He slept most of it away, but at times his body fought against him, and the agony would set in like a knife in his chest cutting away slowly and deeply all the way through to his spine until it became impossible to breathe. But as long as he was sleeping he could manage it— that was, as long as it didn’t leak into his dreams as crows picking at his flesh or finding himself trapped between two thick panes of glass, closing in with nowhere to escape.

Then he awoke gasping for air, free from whatever it was that tormented him only to find that he was trapped in a different kind of hell because it wasn’t just his mind anymore. He was faced with the unthinkable truth that things were about to get much worse, and there was nothing he could do about it but sleep, and slept he did until he no longer knew if it had been days, or weeks, or even a month.

Until the knocking on the door finally came for him.

He was out of time, he knew it. It was time to face a reality he wasn’t able to comprehend, and he wasn’t sure he could do it on his own this time.  _ Please just a little bit longer… _

_ “Seungwoo, are you in there?”  _

He closed his eyes against a wave of stinging tears.

_ Go away go away go away go away go away. _

_ “Seungwoo! Open up!” _

_ Please, not now. I can’t. I can’t do this. _

He pulled the blanket over his head and pressed the padded fabric against his ears. If he couldn’t hear, no one was there. No one wanted something from him that he didn’t have. No one could hurt him.

  
  
  
  


“Seungwoo, I know you’re in there!” Seungsik said against the locked door. Seungwoo’s bike was still in the hallway, and he wouldn’t have left it if he wasn’t inside. The wheels were covered in dried mud, and he was sure it hadn’t rained in almost a week so Seungwoo  _ had  _ to be inside. He wouldn’t have left it out unless he was waiting for it to dry because he hated tracking mud inside his apartment more than anything. He was so damn anal about his security deposit that he wouldn’t even risk putting his bed on a frame in case it scratched the walls. But it wasn’t time to get annoyed about Seungwoo not wanting to bring his muddy bicycle inside because it was time to be especially worried that he wasn’t  _ answering his door.  _ “Seungwoo, open the door!”

He couldn’t raise his voice like he wanted to. He wanted to scream and beg and knock it down if he had to, but he didn’t want his neighbors to hear. He didn’t want to draw extra attention to himself or Seungwoo in case he was just being worried for no reason, but also he wasn’t super fond of the idea of someone calling the police on  _ him  _ and taking  _ him  _ to jail for causing a disturbance.

_ Help me, Seungwoo. Open the door. Let me in. Help me. _

“Seungwoo,” he said firmly before taking a deep breath to gather his courage. Courage for what? He wasn’t sure. Was it because he was worried he would find out that Seungwoo was actively ignoring him and he was actually as clingy as he told himself he never would be, or that he would open the door and find something more horrible than he could ever imagine… The answer was clear, and he knew what he had to do. “Don’t get mad at me, but I’m coming in.”

He pulled out his phone and opened up the notes app where he kept a list of everyone’s door codes in case of emergencies or if someone needed a plant watered or something. It wasn’t a list he needed often, but it was always there waiting for the day to come, and apparently it finally had.

He punched in the combination of numbers and prayed that Seungwoo hadn’t changed it without telling him, but he was greeted with a friendly robotic chime as the door unlocked, and all he had left to do was basically trespass into Seungwoo’s private space for his own personal peace of mind.

_ Maybe this was a bad idea. _

_ Maybe I shouldn’t go in. _

_ Maybe I have to. _

It didn’t matter what he told himself because while his brain was going through every possible yes or no he could think of, his body moved on its own into the apartment.

The first thing he noticed was that all the lights were off as if no one was home, and that should have been enough for him, but it wasn’t. He felt deep down in his stomach that Seungwoo was somewhere inside waiting in the dark, and it made all the hairs on his body stand up.

The apartment was unusually quiet like it hadn’t been lived in in weeks. There wasn’t the muffled sound of a drama or the light tapping of fingertips on a keyboard. There was no water splashing from the shower head or footsteps from someone in another room, and if it wasn’t for the low rumble of the refrigerator, he wouldn’t have been sure this apartment had ever been lived in at all.

His throat tightened as he tried to call out for Seungwoo, holding the words back. He forced himself to swallow before he choked and tried again.

“Seungwoo?”

  
  
  


He was sure the voice he heard hadn’t been real. He must have slipped into a dream and imagined someone calling out for him, but that was just the loneliness, right? That was his brain’s way of making up for his own self induced isolation. He was imagining someone was there, and he had  _ just _ hoped enough that it was true that he almost made himself believe it.

“Seungwoo?” 

_ Seungsikie? _

“Are you in here?” He called out, and Seungwoo felt himself start to shake. He wouldn’t cry. Not like this. He wouldn’t let him see him cry. 

_ Please don’t be real. Please don’t be here. _

“Seungwoo,” Seungsik said close enough that it felt like he was lying there next to him. “Oh my god, please be alive! Please, don’t be dead! Oh my god!”

Before Seungwoo could react, Seungsik’s hands were on his wrapped body, shaking him furiously. 

“Seungwoo!” He shouted.

Seungwoo let out a weak groan and rolled away, and Seungsik dropped his weight over him and laid there for a moment without speaking, panting from fear. Seungwoo closed his eyes and waited while Seungsik caught his breath and calmed down enough to speak.

“I thought something had happened to you,” he cried out, still draped over him, and something about the weight of him replaced the ache in his chest that had been agonizing him for days. “I thought you were…”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Seungwoo said, his voice hoarse. “Go home.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Seungsik said. “Not when you’re like this. Are you sick? Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Do you want me to call your parents?”

“I’m not sick,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Seungsik pushed himself up, and Seungwoo had to resist the urge to pull him back down.  _ Just lay on me a little bit longer until the pain stops, and then leave me here. Please. _

“You’re fine,” Seungsik echoed before he hummed. “Then you won’t mind if I look at you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said from under the covers.

“How do I know if it’s really you if I can’t see your face?”

“Don’t I seem like me?” Seungwoo asked.

“No,” he said softly, hurt.

His eyes burned again, but this time he wasn’t sure he could hold the tears back. He rolled down onto his pillow and buried his face into it as they came all at once.  _ I’m not me. This isn’t me. I’m not me anymore. _

_ “Seungwoo,”  _ he said pitifully, and he had never spoken to him like that before. He had never talked to him the way he had talked to the others when they were in distress. Only Seungwoo’s parents and old sisters talked to him like that. Everyone else treated him in a different way that was never pitiful, and it only made him weep harder.

Seungsik didn’t push away from him. In fact, he did the exact opposite. He twisted his body around until he was sitting against the wall next to him and pulled him into his lap. It was second nature for him to wrap his arms around his waist and sob into him. He didn’t even fight him off when Seungsik pulled the blankets down from over his head, making the cool air hit Seungwoo’s cheeks for the first time in hours.

He ran his fingers through his greasy, unwashed hair completely unaffected even though it made Seungwoo himself cringe. He couldn’t remember the last time he showered or even brushed his teeth, and that was more embarrassing than being caught crying like a baby.

“What’s going on,” he asked quietly as Seungwoo slipped into quiet sobs that shook him but weren’t impossible to breathe through.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Seungwoo said, avoiding the answer because he was afraid of how much more it would hurt saying it to another person.

“Alright, I’ll leave when you want me to,” he said.

“I want you to,” he said.

“Do you?”

“No,” he wailed pathetically and buried his face in his thigh, knowing well that that gross mixture of tears and snot were just going to soak the denim through and there was nothing he could do to stop it unless Seungsik personally pushed him off, but it didn’t seem that he had any plans to do that at all. “Please, don’t go yet.”

“What’s wrong,” he asked again.

“It’s nothing,” Seungwoo shook his head. “It’s pathetic.”

“Nothing you could say could sound pathetic to me,” Seungsik said. “You’re the least pathetic person I know.”

“I’m pretty fucking pathetic right now,” he said bitterly.

“No, you’re hurting,” he said. “Would you call someone you cared about pathetic for hurting?”

“It’s different,” Seungwoo said. “I’m supposed to be the one who takes care of you guys.”

“Says who,” he asked in an annoyingly soothing tone that made Seungwoo want to start crying again, not because it made things worse, but because it made him feel loved. “Why can’t we take care of you too? Maybe I want to.”

“Why,” he said.

“Because you’re my…” Seungsik started before his voice trailed off as he reached for what Seungwoo was to him. “I can’t say you’re my favorite person because Subin is my favorite person.”

Seungwoo let out a weak laugh. “That’s fine. Subin is my favorite person too.”

“I’m glad we agree,” he chuckled and cleared his throat. “Have you, uhh, talked to him lately?”

“No,” he said.

“Have you talked to  _ anyone  _ lately,” and Seungwoo could hear how insecure Seungsik sounded. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought back a wave of guilt that hit him directly in the stomach. 

“No, my phone died a few days ago,” he said. “I think.”

“Oh,” Seungsik said with a mixture of confusion and relief. 

“Sikie, how long has it been,” he said quietly, and the smallness of his own voice startled him.

“Almost a week.”

“Oh,” he said, and he wasn’t crying anymore. He was oddly calm, fading in and out of a state of shock. It couldn’t have really been longer than a day, but it had been, and there he was finally coming to terms with it.

“Have you eaten?”

“I don’t remember,” Seungwoo said. “I think so.”

“What did you eat?”

“Ah,” he said. “I think it was nachos.”

“That was with us,” he said, and the disappointment in his voice was unmistakable. 

“I’m sorry,” he said without realizing. He was sorry for being someone he had to worry about all of the sudden. That wasn’t who he was.

“Don’t be sorry,” Seungsik assured him. “Can you stand?”

“Do I have to?” 

“No,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to.”

It fell silent as Seungsik quietly pulled out his phone, and it was at that moment that Seungwoo finally realized how painfully soundless his own apartment was. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could hear the air passing through Seungsik’s nose, he was afraid he would spiral once again as if no one had ever come to find him. He never wanted to forget what it felt like to hear someone breathing ever again.

He worried that he was going to call someone over, and that someone else was going to see him like that, but instead, Seungsik lowered the phone, and although the screen was too bright for his tired eyes, he saw that it was just a food delivery app, and he relaxed.

Seungsik hummed. “I was going to ask you what you want, but I think you need some protein. And vegetables. But not anything super heavy either. Do you have rice?”

“I think so,” he said.

“I’ll cook that for you while we wait,” he said.

“Don’t go,” Seungwoo said quietly, squeezing him.

“Alright, we’ll order that too,” he said. “Do you want shrimp or chicken?”

“Shrimp,” he said. 

“This place has a special,” Seungsik said. “Free steamed eggs and three side dishes with a double shrimp order. You’re so smart.”

He laughed weakly and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he could eat anything, but Seungsik’s bubbly voice made him feel better, and that was all he needed. 

“Steamed eggs and shrimp,” Seungsik pondered. “Odd, but I guess it’ll still be delicious.”

“Nothing spicy,” Seungwoo whined.

“I’m not,” he said cutely. “No pizza either.”

Seungwoo lifted his head and frowned. “Not so fast.”

“Nothing greasy,” Seungsik scolded him. “You’ll need your strength.”

He let out a long, grievanced sigh. “Fine.”

Maybe he was a little hungry after all.

  
  
  


Seungsik didn’t want to get up, but when the delivery person finally arrived twenty minutes later, someone had to. But the way that Seungwoo, who had always been so strong and independent, clung onto him made him lose his resolve. But he had to eat. That was the first thing Seungsik could do for him was make sure he ate something. 

He slid out from under him and went to the door where he got the food. He could see from the building window outside of the hall that it was just as dark outside as it was inside. His own eyes had adjusted decently to it, but they weren’t going to be able to eat like that so when he made it back to the bedroom, he asked if he could turn on a light and was met with a defiant and childish whine.

“What about the desk lamp,” he asked, trying not to smile. There was nothing cute or funny at all about their current situation, but he couldn’t help that he had a soft spot for Seungwoo already and there he was being petulant about having the light on. “We can’t eat in the dark.”

“Alright,” he said quietly. 

Seungsik reached out for the lamp and pulled the chain, casting a faint orange glow throughout the room. Seungwoo had pulled the blanket back over his head at some point, and was now just a shadowed lump on the mattress.

“It smells good,” he said cheerfully, hoping to coax him out. “I bet it tastes really good. Maybe this will be better than where we normally get food, and we can try something else. They had a lot on the menu. Even black pork.”

Seungwoo never said anything, and it made him ramble on even more.

“It looks like they threw in a free coke,” he said. “Do you want to share it?”

“That’s alright,” he finally said.

“Sit up so I can put the food down,” Seungsik said, finally having his attention.

“On my bed?” He asked as he emerged.

“Yeah, it’ll be okay,” he said. “Unless you feel like going into the other room.”

Seungwoo grunted a no, and he set the bag down and crawled on the bed before using the plastic as a barrier between the hot steaming food and the sheet. He did his best to position the containers in a way that wouldn’t spill before he split apart a pair of wooden chopsticks. 

He looked up at Seungwoo who stared down at the food hopelessly. He had deep dark circles under his eyes and was barely recognizable with the newly sprouted facial hair around his mouth. Seungsik reached out and cupped his face in his free hand and stroked his cheek with his thumb. “You’re so scruffy.”

“Am I,” he asked, reaching up to touch his own face to see, but instead he rested his upon Seungsik’s and sat there for a moment like he was appreciating the warmth of another person.

“You are,” he said softly, his voice catching in his throat. “Wolf boy.”

“Wolf boy?” Seungwoo laughed, and he wondered if that was the first time Seungwoo had laughed all week.

“That’s all I could think of,” he said, grateful that Seungwoo looked more alive even for a moment. “What would you call yourself?”

“Rugged and handsome,” he said. 

Seungsik hummed and shook his head, pulling his hand away from his face. Seungwoo’s own fell down to his lap, and he stared off suddenly at the food like he wasn’t there anymore. He was dissociating, and all Seungsik could do was give him time until he came back again.

He blinked several times and let out a heavy sigh. Seungsik’s mouth twisted as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. This whole situation was nothing he had ever encountered before with another person, and Seungwoo wasn’t the kind of person to show his own vulnerability, but this was what that was, wasn’t it? Seungwoo being vulnerable for the first time with him, and Seungsik being there to take care of him. Maybe that’s what he needed the most.

He reached out and grabbed a single shrimp from the pile. The breading crunched between the woodden sticks, and he was glad it was still crispy.

“Do you want sauce?”

Seungwoo shook his head that he didn’t, so Seungsik raised the piece and fed it to him. The action was clumsy because he wasn’t used to feeding a person, but at least this way he could assure that Seungwoo ate something. If he had to leave him soon, he would know that much.

Seungwoo chewed slowly like he was getting used to the feeling of having something in his mouth again like someone recovering from the flu. He swallowed the rest, and Seungsik fished out a bite of what looked to be marinated green onions and fed them to him. Seungwoo grimaced at the taste and smacked his lips.

“I guess I was supposed to put them on top of something,” he considered.

“That’s okay,” Seungwoo said. “It’s just salty.”

“Is it?” He asked, trying a bite for himself. He stuck his tongue out and coughed. “Oh!”

“Maybe that’s why it was free,” he said weakly. “They were trying to get rid of it.”

“Here try it with rice,” he said. He scooped up a spoonful of rice and placed the shrimp on top with a little pinch of the green onions and raised it to Seungwoo’s mouth, cupping his hand beneath it in case he dropped any. Seungwoo opened his mouth like a baby bird, and he was somehow able to get everything in without making a mess. He nodded his head, satisfied, and the shrimp still held its crunch as he chewed it all together, making Seungsik’s mouth water at the sound. He piled the same combination onto the spoon and tried it for himself, and decided that that was the only way to eat those unforgiving green onions that perhaps gave him an idea of what to expect from the other dishes.

“Is it okay,” he asked.

“It’s okay,” Seungwoo said.

They ate like that together for the rest of the meal with Seungsik feeding Seungwoo small bites of everything and then eating while Seungwoo chewed slowly, still far from recovering his strength until everything was almost gone and neither one of them could manage anymore.

“I’ll be right back,” he said before taking the containers to the kitchen to put the empty ones with the trash and the half eaten ones in the refrigerator for later. He noticed when he opened the door that it was empty except for a few beers, some ketchup, a face pack, and an old carrot. He frowned. He was going to have to do something about that too.

  
  
  
  


Once again Seungwoo was alone, and it was agonizing. Seungsik was coming back right? He hadn’t been left alone? It seemed like hours passed as he sat on his mattress tormented by this new irrational fear that Seungsik had left him there, and he was about to crawl over and simply unplug the lamp from the wall so that it could never bother him again when to his great relief, Seungsik came back. 

“How are you feeling,” he asked.

“I’m fine,” was what he wanted to say, but his lips stuck together and formed two pitiful grunts.

Seungsik hummed, not really needing the lie anyway since he could see right through him. “Can you stand?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” he said in a reassuring voice that Seungwoo knew more than anyone meant that he was going to have to do what he said if he wanted to know peace.

Seungsik reached out to him and took his hands, leading him up over the mattress and helping him to his feet. The tiles were cold against his toes and made the soles ache, and his legs felt like they were made of something just on the verge of melting, but if he lost his footing, Seungsik was next to him ready to catch his weight just like he always had been even if Seungwoo hadn’t realized it before. He had always been only one step behind him, patiently waiting in case Seungwoo couldn’t push forward on his own.

_ How long have I been like this? How long have I been this tired? _

He led him towards the bathroom presumably to lock him inside until he smelled more or less like a human depending on what one’s definition was of what a human was supposed to smell like. Fresh soap and bottled fragrance wasn’t nearly as authentic as the unwashed sweaty and dirty creation he had come to be, technically. He leaned down to his own armpit just to check, and came to the conclusion that not only was Seungsik a saint, but a human was supposed to smell like bottled rose buds.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“For what,” Seungsik asked.

“I stink,” he said. “Really bad.”

“You don’t smell that bad,” he lied. “It’s bringing me back to the good old days.”

“What good old days?”

“High school gym class.”

Seungwoo choked over a laugh that was cut short by the bright fluorescent light that greeted them with an unwelcome flip of a switch. To his surprise, while his eyes adjusted, once the door shut, Seungsik was still inside.

_ What are you doing? _

He was sure he asked him that out loud, but based on the lack of response, it seemed that it had only been inside his own head. But Seungsik moved like he understood him anyway, and chose to stay quiet, matching the way Seungwoo’s apartment had become over the last few days except now it felt alive again with the gentle sounds of footsteps on tile or the sound of the plastic stool being placed under the shower head.

He looked at Seungwoo and furrowed his brows before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling upwards. Seungwoo’s arms moved up over his own head instinctively as he let the younger undress him, and he shrank against the cold that hit his bare skin. 

Once that was finished, he sat down on the stool and covered himself up feeling exposed, but Seungsik’s eyes never wandered. His cheeks never flushed, and he didn’t look at him like anything else but someone who needed help just this once.

He turned on the water and let it get warm before moving the showerhead over his body, starting with his back and moving up to his shoulders carefully towards the back of his head.

“Hotter,” Seungwoo said.

“It’s already scalding,” he said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I can’t feel it,” he said quietly.

“Just a little bit,” Seungsik gave in, and once the hot water hit his skin, he let out a long relieved sigh. “I’m going to wet your hair, okay?”

Seungwoo nodded and closed his eyes so he could pour the water down on him. He ran his fingers through his hair, making sure to saturate it to the root before reaching for the shampoo bottle nearby. Seungsik pushed a few pumps into the palm of his hand and spread it out before lathering the shampoo into Seungwoo’s hair for him. 

It had been so long since he smelled something as simple as shampoo that the fragrance was almost too much for him. With his eyes closed, he tried his best to block it out, but the feeling of careful fingertips running through his hair made him feel like he could drift off to sleep.

“I’m going to wash it out,” Seungsik warned him so he could hold his breath as the mixture of water and scented suds ran down his face. Strands of hair now clung to his forehead, shadowing the light that had earlier bothered him so much.

Once his hair was rinsed clean, he covered it with conditioner to let it rest so he could prepare a washcloth with soap. He started at the back of his neck, scrubbing away at the oils and grime and dead skin that clung to Seungwoo’s body and moved down to his back. Although Seungwoo couldn’t see it, his skin had turned a fiery red like he was being scrubbed down at a sauna, but there was nothing rough or resentful about it. Seungsik was only doing what had to be done to get him clean again, but it felt like he was receiving a beating for letting himself get so bad.

He rinsed off his back with the water that had been turned back down to a livable temperature without Seungwoo knowing and added more soap to the cloth. He then washed and scrubbed Seungwoo’s arms and hands, making sure to meticulously get between each finger.

He rinsed the soap off and moved to his chest and stomach, and that’s when Seungwoo could see his face and the way he scowled while he worked like he was too busy concentrating to realize what he was doing, and in a way it was sobering because it made him wonder why he was being bathed by another man.

_ Because I can’t do it myself.  _

He closed his eyes and sighed, unable to look at him anymore and unable to accept how pathetic was at that moment that he had to have one of his friends wash his body for him because he had become incapable. It was a word he had never associated with himself before, and it wasn’t a concept he wanted to accept so easily.

But Seungsik didn’t say anything. He didn’t make any passive aggressive comments about Seungwoo living in his own filth, and he didn’t say anything like he expected praise for doing it. He just did this one thing he could for him, and Seungwoo supposed for that he should have been grateful.

He moved down to his legs and scrubbed down to his feet, and that’s when Seungwoo finally could find the energy to speak.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, pulling a foot away.

_ “Pyeha,”  _ Seungsik teased. “You cannot rule the people if your feet are crusty.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “It feels wrong.”

“Why?”

“You’re not someone who should be washing another person’s feet,” Seungwoo said weakly.

“You’re not just another person,” he said. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Yes,” he said, not having the hot water on him anymore. 

“Then let me finish,” Seungsik said. “It won’t take long, your feet aren’t very big.”

“My feet are big,” he grumbled.

“Teeny, tiny, baby toes,” he teased.

“I’ll get you,” Seungwoo threatened, kicking out at him.

“Mhm,” he said, ignoring him, and it fell silent again as he finished his task. Seungwoo still couldn’t look at him, and judging by the expression on Seungsik’s face, he didn’t want him to. “I’m going to go get you a towel and some clothes. Can you, you know…”

He gestured around his waist like he was making a car washing motion, and Seungwoo understood.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said. 

Seungsik slipped out while Seungwoo finished cleaning himself in his more private places, and when he returned, he toweled him off more gently than he had been when he was scrubbing him clean.

“Do you have any lotion,” he asked.

“On the shelf,” Seungwoo said, looking next to the toilet. 

Seungsik squeezed out a dollop of lotion into his palms and warmed it before spreading it over his back and shoulders. He kneaded the muscles with his thumbs and the heel of his hands as he worked through the tension that Seungwoo hadn’t realized his body had been holding. 

He spread it up the back and sides of his neck, avoiding his hairline, and massaged it in until all of the cream was gone.

“There,” he said, slapping his hands together. 

“Am I done?”

“Not yet,” Seungsik said. “Do you have an electric razor?”

“Are you going to give me a trim,” Seungwoo tried to joke.

“No, scruffy,” he said. “But I’m not confident I can shave you with a normal one without accidentally cutting you.”

“You don’t think I look nice like this?”

“I think you just need some sculpting,” Seungsik observed. “But your mom might not like it so much.”

“That’s true,” he said, touching his own face and scratching at the scruff that was starting to itch. “Mom doesn’t like beards.”

Seungsik hummed. “Razor?”

“Top drawer,” he said, giving in. The buzz of the motor startled them both, and it was the first  _ electric noise  _ he’d heard in a week once his phone died.

Having someone else shave him was clumsy and awkward, and he almost took the machine out of Seungsik’s hands out of pure impatience, but his hands sat heavily in his lap while he waited.

Being that close to him should have embarrassed him, but he couldn’t conjure up the feeling of shame. He couldn’t feel anything really, and he supposed at that moment that was probably for the best.

“All done,” he said, patting Seungwoo’s cheek for a job well done.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You can thank me after you see yourself in a mirror,” he said with a grimace. “You’ve still got a little hamster action going on around your mouth.”

“I mean thank you for taking care of me,” Seungwoo said, not caring how good or bad of a barber Seungsik was.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said. “But I’m not done.”

“What else is left,” he asked.

“I’m not sure, but let’s get you dressed while I figure it out.”

  
  
  


Seungsik has absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing. He had never taken care of another person before. No elderly relatives, no newborn babies, no one in the hospital, and no one sick, this was completely new to him. And Seungwoo being the first… there was just something about that that made it all the more unusual. 

But Seungwoo wasn’t sick from what he could tell, but he certainly wasn’t himself either. Except there were moments when he saw him in the way his lips curled back when Seungsik teased him or the way he squinted his eyes as he chewed something a little too salty. Seungwoo was still inside, he just needed a little love to come back out again, Seungsik thought. At least it was worth a shot.

Once he was washed, dried, lotioned, shaved, and dressed, Seungsik led him out to the living room where he made him get on the couch. 

“I’m going to strip your sheets,” he said. “Your washing machine is big enough for sheets and pillow cases, right?”

Seungwoo nodded without saying anything, but Seungsik could read his expression clearly.

_ You don’t have to do that. _

_ It’s just laundry it’s not a big deal. _

_ You’re not the kind of person who should be doing someone else’s laundry. _

_ Today I am because you need me to, and that’s okay. _

_ But- _

_ Stop arguing with me you’re going to get wrinkles. _

Seungwoo frowned and laid down on the sofa and closed his eyes. Seungsik huffed. He wasn’t finished arguing with him yet even if he said he was, but Seungwoo couldn’t hear him silently nag him if his eyes were closed. How would that work?

_ It must be getting late because I feel like I’m going crazy. _

Once he got back into Seungwoo’s room, he grabbed his phone off of the nightstand and saw that a few hours had passed since he first got there, but it didn’t feel like it had been that long. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to get home after the metro closed at midnight, and he had spent too much money on food just then to take a cab home. He sighed. He knew when he changed directions that he was taking a risk, but he wasn’t the first person to have to spend the night at a bathhouse because he missed his train. 

_ It’s fine. He’s safe, and I’ll get home when I get home. _

He stripped the bed, leaving the comforter in a pile on top of the bare mattress because that would probably have to be taken to a laundromat or a dry cleaner or someone with a bigger machine than what Seungwoo would have had in his apartment.

He stuffed the sheets and pillowcases into the wash and added the detergent and fabric softener and closed the lid to let the machine do the rest of the work for him. His own cold wet clothes clung to him, and if he had been home he would have taken them off and stuffed them inside with them, but it was his own fault for trying to wash someone with one hand and rinse them off with the other. There must have been a trick to it that he had yet to master.

_ Next time. _

But if things went well, there wouldn’t have to be a next time, and that was what he wanted most. He wanted Seungwoo to be okay. 

He didn’t want to leave him without at least putting the sheets back on the bed for him so he had at least another hour or two before he could go, but then he wouldn’t be able to make it home. It was a shame, but it was necessary.

Seungwoo looked like he had fallen asleep so Seungsik sat on the floor next to him and watched him. Seungwoo’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked back at him lazily, looking more tired than ever.

“What’s wrong,” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Seungwoo finally said. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Has it ever happened before,” Seungsik asked, raising his hand to brush his hair out from his eyes. 

“Not like this,” he said, his voice barely leaving a hoarse throat. “Nothing has ever been this bad before.”

“Hmm,” he said, thinking. There was more that had to be done than he was capable of doing himself, but Seungwoo deserved a good life. He deserved to feel happy and know that this didn’t make him any less strong than he was when he was at his best, but that wasn’t something Seungsik could help him with by himself. He could wash his hair and feed him, but he couldn’t give Seungwoo the help he needed the most. But only Seungwoo could make the decision to try. “Is there anyone you can see? Like a doctor?”

Seungwoo frowned and rolled away from him, facing the cushion of the couch and turning his back towards him. 

Instead of getting frustrated with him, he scratched between his shoulder blades and continued. “There’s nothing wrong with going to a doctor when you’re not feeling well. It doesn’t matter if you have a fever or a torn muscle or if your head isn’t so good right now. It’s all the same.”

“It’s not the same,” he said.

“What if you broke your leg, and it didn’t set right because you never went to the doctor, so it never healed quite like it’s supposed to, and then you could never play soccer ever again,” Seungsik said. “You know you wouldn’t do that, so why would you not give your mind and heart the same chance to heal too?”

Seungwoo let out a long sigh like he understood, but he didn’t want to admit he did.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “If you want.”

He rolled towards him and pouted. “Where?”

“To the doctor,” Seungsik said. “I don’t think they’ll let me in the office with you, but I can sit in the waiting room while you talk to one. We can go get lunch. My treat.”

“I should pay,” he grumbled. “I’m older.”

“If we go to the doctor, you can buy me food,” Seungsik said. “Anything I want, right?”

“Anything you want,” he said, closing his eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip like he was fighting back a wave of tears, and Seungsik hated that he had to hurt so much all on his own.

“I can call for you too,” he whispered. “I can set up the appointment, and we can go together, and then get you feeling better again.”

Seungwoo nodded and let out a breath of relief, and Seungsik sat there watching him in silence for a few more minutes.

“Am I crazy,” Seungwoo said after a while when Seungsik thought he had fallen asleep. 

“Sometimes you moan in public,” Seungsik answered, earning a happy laugh that he hadn’t heard since he got there.

“Alright, I guess that’s fair,” he said. 

“Let me go put your sheets in the dryer,” he said. “I think I heard the machine stop.”

“Are you coming back?” 

“I still have to put them back on the bed for you,” Seungsik said. “Then I’ll be out of your hair for the night.”

“Can you stay?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you stay here for the night,” he asked. “Unless you have somewhere you need to be.”

“I don’t,” Seungsik said. “I can stay if you want me to.”

Seungwoo nodded, and then he glanced up and down at him and frowned. “Your clothes are wet.”

“Yes,” he laughed. “I keep hoping they’ll dry, but they don’t seem to want to.”

“Change into some of mine,” Seungwoo frowned seriously. “You’ll get sick.”

“Maybe I like wearing wet clothes,” he said with his hands on his hips, baiting Seungwoo’s own caregiving nature.

“And when you get a rash?”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Can I shower too? I smell like those salty ass onions.”

“Sure,” Seungwoo said. “As long as you come back.”

He nodded. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“And maybe we can watch a movie? If you’re not too tired?” 

“I’m not too tired,” Seungsik said. “Just let me put your bed back together first in case I nod off in the middle of it.”

“Alright,” Seungwoo said. 

“Do you want me to get your phone and charger for you before I go wash myself off?”

Seungwoo sat up and nodded, running his hand through his own damp hair. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you find yourself in a bad situation like this, please seek out professional help if you’re able to. I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be happy. 
> 
> On a different note, I can be found shit posting on twitter @seungteefs ❤️


End file.
